Afterward
by Ethereal-Aria
Summary: Peter is left to pick up the pieces of his and Mary Jane's relationship after his dark, downward spiral. A guilty, ashamed Peter Parker begs for the forgiveness of the only woman he's ever loved. Alternate ending and oneshot. Movie Verse: SpiderMan 3


**Author's note: **Hello dearest Spider-Man fans! This is my very first Spider-Man piece, though I'm not at all new to the world of Peter Parker and co. I've been a fan for quite some time, though I've never before written anything for this fandom. This came to me after a viewing of the latest movie and it was written under a few hours, so please bear with me if it isn't quite up to par with some of the better pieces I've seen over here. This piece is set instead of the final scene in Spider-Man 3 where Peter and Mary Jane just seem to forgive eachother without a word. I wasn't all that keen on that particular ending, therefore I wrote another one that better suite what I would have liked. Anyhow, I thank you for the time you've spared for my work and sincerely hope that you enjoy it and could possibly find a little time to review as it always helps me improve. Thank you!

**Disclaimer: **I'm afraid that I shall never own the characters from the Spider-Man universe... Darn!

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**Afterward**

A hesitant rap on appartment door B32 was closely followed by silence. Peter Parker, drawing his hand away from the door of chipping green paint, waited anxiously, eyes downcast and mouth closed and tensed in seriousness. His teeth chewed his inner lip and he could perceive a faint taste of blood on his tongue. He really ought to stop... Furrowing his hands in the pockets of his dark coat and slightly drawing his shoulders closer to his neck, he sighed and stole a furtive glance at the still unopened door, bringing his eyes back down almost immediately after. He didn't know what exactly was making his watery blue eyes remain glued to the floor, but he was guessing that the unshakable feelings of shame and guilt were most likely to blame... Most likely... His fingers fidgeting nervously in his pockets with either bits of scrap paper or the odd coin, he ran his tongue lightly along his dry lips, trying to appease his nerves and trying to ready himself for-

The door opened and Peter's gaze left the ground quickly.

"Mary Jane," murmured he.

She paused momentarily as if debating whether or not to leave the door open or to slam it closed once more. Her locks of red hair spilled over her shoulders, catching bits of gold in the dim light of the hallway, and her expression was hard to pinpoint; angry? Hurt? Frustrated? Tired? Peter couldn't tell, but all the nerve he'd thought he'd built up swiftly left him in one sickening moment. He was all alone. He was without anything to say or anything to offer. He parted his lips slowly, but found no sound coming from them. His pained eyes shyly looked into hers and she looked back, unflinching.

"Peter," stated she, seeming unsure of what to say herself. "I - um... hi," she said blankly, leaning against the doorframe, crossing her arms lightly, each hand gripping the other arm. She looked so vulnerable...

"Hi," he dully echoed, desperately trying to conjure a smile, but only just succeeding.

She seemed to search his eyes as the silence began to stretch in front of them, growing larger and more insurmountable as minutes slowly ticked by; a fitting metaphor for their current situation. Again, Peter's eyes sunk to the floor as he struggled for something to say. There had to be something he could say... Anything! Surely after all he'd done he could manage something! There had to be _something_... _Something _to make everything right again... _Something_ to make up for what he'd done... _Something _to take it all away..._ Something _to make her love him again... _Something _to make him deserve her love again...

That damned silence was closing in on him and suffocating him, pressing down on him and making it all the more difficult to think of something good to say... A word, a sentence... Growing incredibly frustrated with himself, he closed his eyes as he let out a defeated and agonized breath that lamely broke that choking silence. He couldn't think... There weren't any words worthy of her forgiveness that he could say... What could he do?

Opening his eyes as he decided to glance up and into the eyes of the woman he loved so, so very much, Peter barely registered the puzzled and almost sympathetic look on her face. Instead, his eyes were drawn to her left cheek.

He felt the little air in his lungs leave him and his stomache seemingly drop. He was filled with emptiness as his eyes never left that precious cheek. He staggered forward, trying to get a closer look and a trembling hand came to timidly rest on her chin while the other hovered, shaking, inches away from that smooth expanse of alabaster that was her cheek. The curved and rosy flesh was stained by fading splotches of violet and blue and he already knew the reason why. He stared in a dull rapture at the splashes of pale purple and ran one finger softly down the trail of bruised skin, not daring to breathe.

An overwhelming wave of guilt crashed down upon upon him mercilessly and he suddenly wrenched his touch away, snatching away his hands, horrified and revolted by what he'd done. He couldn't take it anymore and he hung his head, shoulders slumped, and roughly entangled one of his awful hands into his hair as he began to sob. "I'm so sorry, Mary Jane," he breathed through tears, pulling at his hair, trying to inflict some sort of pain onto himself. "I'm so, so sorry..." he whispered, his voice breaking and clearly in agony. Shutting his eyes, not deeming himself worthy to even look at her, he let the tears of guilt burn his flesh as they slid down his face; warm, salty, and filled with remorse. What a horrible person he was... How could he have done that? How could he have let himself do that? How could he have hurt the only person he loved this much? His whole being ached and stung with hatred for himself and his vocal cords had somehow knotted themselves as sobs continued to clog his throat. Still, the aqueaous orbs of disbelief and sadness slipped down his cheeks and his heart throbbed violently in his chest, heaving itself painfully against the confines of his breast as if trying to recreate some of the bruises he'd left upon Mary Jane's cheek. Broken and undeniably guilty, he choked out, "Mary Jane... I'm so sorry..." and began to repeat his apology as if it were a prayer begging for forgiveness, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..."

Suddenly, the touch of a hand he knew all too well was administered to the hand clutching his hair and it was gently pried away. Encasing his hand in her own, Mary Jane looked up at Peter with bright eyes shining with tears and gave him a little smile that made his heart stumble in it's rythmn. Looking down at Mary Jane through eyelashes sprinkled with a dew of tears, Peter released a couple of wayward sobs, but was unable to speak, his lips drawing in rattling breaths that sometimes caught in his throat. Lightly tracing unknown designs upon the back of his fingers, she gazed up at him and Peter was able to briefly catch a glimmer in her eyes that reminded him of the way she used to look at him. A sudden warmth managed to permeate the cage of cold despair encasing his heart and he was able to hope again. Perhaps... Perhaps, he still had a chance? Perhaps... Could she still love him?

Swallowing down the remainder of his sobs and making way for words, Peter quietly spoke, "I'm so sorry, Mary Jane. I can barely begin to-to even try to explain... I can't, really, explain or even try to make everything right again..." he breathed in heavily, "But I love you. I do. I love you so much that it hurts to think that I almost ruined... ruined our love... Ruined what we had and I don't really know how, erm, how exactly to make things right again, but I will. I swear I will, but I really need you to know that I love you with everything I possess. I always have. I always will... And I didn't mean -"

"It's alright," whispered Mary Jane, gently cutting him off, squeezing his hand softly.

"No," retorted Peter, ashamed, "No, everything isn't alright, please, I don't deserve for everything to be alright just yet, so please, don't say -"

"Peter, stop," chided she, shaking her head, that faint smile upon her lips, "Really, please. It's alright"

Leaned closer to his beloved Mary Jane, Peter slowly raised a hand to trace the lins of her jaw with all of the tenderness in the world and then, carefully and shyly, he slipped his arms around her tiny form, holding her to him gently. Reacting swiftly with a sharp and emotional intake of breath, she immediately curled her arms around him, holding him to her fast and nuzzling her face into his chest. He then proceeded to press her delicate form against him, burying his face into her hair, closing the eyes that threatened to overflow with a wave of fresh tears.

Mary Jane then whispered a feverish and truthful, "I love you," into his coat, her lips moving against his chest, and Peter Parker felt his world somehow right itself once again.

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**Author's closing note: **Again, thank you so very much for reading my work and I really do hope that you enjoyed it:) Please, if you could, please leave a review and tell me what you think! I do so ever love to hear from you all!:)

Yours,

Ethereal Aria :)


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